


Pushing Limits

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nevactacus, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22397065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Nevada has never known gentleness, but Caractacus wants to show him that pleasure doesn't have to include pain.
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37
Collections: Nevactacus





	Pushing Limits

**Author's Note:**

> I have fragments and scenes that I've worked on, and they were always meant to be combined (eventually) into the next part of By Hook or Crook. However, I've decided to just go ahead and post some of them as standalone scenes. I still might connect them into an actual chapter someday.

Caractacus clamped his lips together, desperately trying to keep the cry in his throat. He liked being on his back when Nevada fucked him because he liked watching Nevada’s face, loved watching him fall apart, but in this position every thrust was so deep that the line between pleasure and pain began to blur very quickly. 

And Nevada was thrusting _hard_. Caractacus could feel the other man’s desperation and all the pent-up emotions that he didn’t know how to release, and Caractacus wanted to be what Nevada needed. 

Nevada was looking at Caractacus’s face, and Caractacus did his best to hide his grimace. Nevada slowed but didn’t stop. “You alright?” he asked gruffly. His forehead was shiny with sweat, his pupils blown wide, and Caractacus knew he was close to finishing. 

Caractacus’s body was on fire, and he was having increasing difficulty finding the pleasure buried in the pain. Each slam into his prostate made him shiver, and he knew his body would come if Nevada kept going—but he also knew it wouldn’t really feel like a relief. He blinked the sweat from his eyes, trying to focus.

“I—Can you—wait,” he said, barely aware of the words leaving his lips. He put a shaky hand against Nevada’s sweaty chest, distantly aware of the soft spring of curls under his palm. He scrunched his eyes closed, trying to control his breaths, afraid he was going to black out. The insides of his eyelids were peppered with dancing blossoms. He squirmed restlessly but even the soft sheet beneath him felt rough against his skin. “Stop,” he said, but it took several seconds before he realized that Nevada had _already_ stopped.

In fact, he’d already pulled out, leaving Caractacus gaping, open and empty and raw, exposed to the assault of air that stung his inflamed skin. 

“Caractacus?”

He forced his eyes open to find Nevada staring down at him, eyes dark beneath a heavy dip of black brows. “Sorry,” Caractacus mumbled, “just give me a minute.” Nevada was bent over him, hands fisted on the bed to either side of the other man. He was breathing heavily and Caractacus felt a rush of guilt, knowing how close Nevada had been to finishing. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Caractacus said. “Sorry,” he repeated, “I just…I just need a minute.”

Nevada was scowling at him, but Caractacus could feel his concern and uncertainty. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Caractacus shifted and winced again. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was going to take longer than a minute. “You can come in my mouth,” he said quietly, glancing away from Nevada’s dark stare. “I’ll suck you off.” He was still having difficulty catching his breath, but he was sure he could handle a few rough thrusts into his throat. 

Nevada reached down and touched a finger to the stretched ring of Caractacus’s opening, and Caractacus cried out in surprise before he could stop himself. He suppressed the urge to slam his legs together; he couldn’t if he wanted to, anyway, not with Nevada kneeling between them. 

“Do you want to come?” Nevada asked. 

Caractacus wasn’t sure how to answer that. The very thought of any more prostate stimulation made him shiver.

“Look at my fucking eyes, _Chiflado_ ,” Nevada said. His voice was sharp, and he was still scowling, but Caractacus knew he wasn’t actually angry.

“I don’t know,” Caractacus said, meeting Nevada’s gaze. It was the only honest answer he could give. “Let me finish you off, I can—”

Nevada spat in his palm and wrapped his hand around Caractacus’s cock. Caractacus managed to stop his shout this time, but his eyes rolled closed. Nevada gave him one slow stroke to mix the saliva and precome, but his grip was surprisingly gentle. 

“Nevada,” Caractacus breathed. He tried to say more and only managed to repeat: “Nevada.”

“Yes or no?” Nevada asked.

Caractacus tried to concentrate, tried to figure out what his burning body wanted. “Yes,” he said. He wanted—needed—release, and Nevada’s touch was enough to dull some of his soreness.

Nevada gave him a few more twisting strokes, and Caractacus squirmed on the bed, clutching at the sheet, his chest heaving. “Come for me,” Nevada said softly, and Caractacus’s back arched off the bed as his orgasm tore through him. He came all over his own stomach and chest, and Nevada’s fist, and collapsed back into the mattress exhausted and panting. He reached out with rubbery arms, scrabbling his fingers over Nevada’s skin, unable to find purchase. Nevada pulled away and swung himself out of bed. “Stay,” he said.

Caractacus closed his eyes, dropping his hands to the bed. Nevada went into the bathroom and closed the door with a soft click, and Caractacus cursed himself as he struggled to catch his breath. After a minute, he heard Nevada turn on the shower, and then the bathroom door opened.

Caractacus turned his head and cracked his eyes, quickly confirming what he’d feared: Nevada had finished himself off in the bathroom. Caractacus felt a fresh surge of guilt and opened his mouth to apologize again.

“Get up, in the shower,” Nevada said before the other man could speak. He crossed to the bed, naked, the sweat drying on his body, and held down a hand. Caractacus took it automatically, letting Nevada help him up. Caractacus’s muscles were barely cooperative, and he was achy and sore. The bathroom seemed an impossible distance away, but the sound of the shower was enticing. Caractacus knew the hot water would sooth his body, and he made his way toward the bathroom.

He stopped inside the smaller room and turned when he realized Nevada wasn’t following him through the doorway. “Come in with me?” he said, reaching out to run his fingers along Nevada’s arm. “Please?” he added, unable to stop the plea.

Nevada hesitated. “If you want me to,” he answered after a moment, the words tipping up on the end to make them almost a question. “Okay,” he said when Caractacus nodded. Caractacus turned and stepped into the tub, feeling Nevada’s light touch at his back to steady him. A moment later Nevada followed him in and drew the curtain, and the steam swirled up around them.

The water was almost too hot to be bearable, but Caractacus let it cascade over his tingling skin, easing some of the ache from his muscles. He turned his back to the water and reached out, looping his arms over Nevada’s shoulders and burying his face in the other man’s neck. “Don’t be upset,” he murmured.

Nevada put his arms around Caractacus, but the move was hesitant, uncertain. “You think I’m mad at you?” he asked in a low voice.

“No,” Caractacus said, and it was true. He didn’t think Nevada was angry with _him_ , but he knew Nevada was upset just the same. “I’m sorry, though.” He pressed a kiss to Nevada’s neck and felt Nevada’s arms tighten around him. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just got—”

“You shoulda stopped me sooner,” Nevada cut in. His tone was accusatory but Caractacus wasn’t fooled.

“I thought I could make it,” Caractacus mumbled. He knew that Nevada was right; Caractacus should’ve told the other man that he was struggling before he got to the point where he was in more pain than pleasure.

Nevada pushed Caractacus against the wall, gently, and drew back a bit, and Caractacus lifted his head to meet his dark gaze. “I don’t want you to _make it_. If you’re just trying to fucking _make it through_ when we—”

“No,” Caractacus cut in, running his hands over Nevada’s chest. “You like it rougher than I do, Nevada, and I want to give you what you—what you need. I pushed myself too far but that doesn’t mean—”

“Pushed your _self_?”

“Look at me,” Caractacus said, cupping his hands to the other man’s jaw. He couldn’t stand the guilt in Nevada’s eyes. “I want you. Jesus, you know—you can see how my body reacts when you touch me or even look at me. I want to be with you, Nevada. _You_. I’m not asking you to change, I promise. I’ll communicate better next time. We can figure it out together.”

“Together,” Nevada repeated, the word barely audible under the sound of the water. He hesitated, searching Caractacus’s face, and swallowed hard. “Pain’s always been part of sex,” he said quietly. Caractacus didn’t take the admission for granted, because he knew how difficult it was for Nevada to open up. Caractacus had his hands on the sides of Nevada’s neck, and he ran his thumbs over the other man’s stubbled jaw. “ _Me gusta el dolor_ ,” Nevada breathed.

Caractacus wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but he nodded in understanding. “I don’t,” he said, because he had to be honest. “But not liking pain isn’t the same as being unwilling,” he added.

Nevada leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Caractacus’s. “I don’t know how to change, _Chiflado_ ,” he muttered. His hands were at Caractacus’s waist. “But I…” He swallowed, his fingers digging into Caractacus’s sides. “I want you to… _want_ to be with me.”

“I do.”

“Why?” Nevada asked without looking at him. Caractacus knew the other man wasn’t fishing for compliments or praise. The cockiness would return, but for now all of Nevada’s self-assurance was gone. The two men were cocooned together in the hot shower, separated from the outside world, safe in each other’s arms, and Nevada’s vulnerability was showing.

“You have hard edges, Vada, but I know where your soft spots are,” Caractacus murmured, tipping his head so he could touch his lips to Nevada’s. He slid one hand a little lower to lightly touch a finger to the hollow of Nevada’s throat. Nevada loved it when Caractacus sucked at that sensitive skin, and now his throat bobbed at the contact.

Caractacus trailed his hand further down, thumbing at a nipple. Nevada had extra-sensitive nipples, and the small shiver that passed through his body made Caractacus smile. Nevada had a lot of self-control, but there were chinks in his armor. He liked having his stomach licked and sucked—maybe even more than he liked having his actual dick sucked, although he would never admit it out loud—and the insides of his thighs _begged_ for the bruising pressure of Caractacus’s fingers when Nevada was on the edge of ecstasy. 

Nevada slid his arms around Caractacus’s sides and tightened his hold, putting an abrupt end to Caractacus’s exploration before he’d even reached Nevada’s navel. Nevada flattened his body against Caractacus’s and buried his face in the side of the inventor’s neck and then he just stood there, breathing heavily.

Caractacus pressed a soft kiss to Nevada’s cheek and held onto him. He supposed there were millions of people in the world with whom he could’ve fallen in love; in all the world, he wasn’t sure he could’ve found anyone more different from Mimsie than Nevada, and in a way it was almost funny that they were the two people his heart had decided to love. Nevada had scars, both physical and emotional, and he had baggage that he’d been struggling to carry alone for a long time. Their meeting had been anything but romantic, and Caractacus wasn’t delusional about Nevada’s life.

But he did love him, and he didn’t regret falling. 

Nevada wasn’t ready for that kind of declaration, though, so Caractacus kept the words to himself. He wouldn’t say them until Nevada was ready to hear them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make Nevada _feel_ loved and accepted and safe. 

“Let’s get cleaned up and go back to bed,” Caractacus murmured near the other man’s ear. For a moment Nevada’s embrace grew even tighter, almost tight enough to cut off Caractacus’s breath, and then he relented and took half a step back. 

“The steam makes you all pink, _Chiflado_ ,” Nevada said with a smirk to cover his brief show of neediness.

“ _You_ make me all pink,” Caractacus shot back with a flash of teeth and dimples that made Nevada chuckle. Caractacus leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss before grabbing for the soap.

* * *

Nevada was on his back with one arm bent up beneath his head and the other hand resting on his stomach. He was naked, but the sheet was pooled low across his hips. He watched as Caractacus trailed soft kisses over his shoulder and down his arm before shifting to press his lips against Nevada’s chest. There was a puckered scar from an old gunshot, and Caractacus let his lips linger against the pale mark.

“Thought you wanted to sleep,” Nevada said, sounding amused. 

“I just want to try something first,” Caractacus answered, glancing up at Nevada as he flicked his tongue over one hard nipple. 

“Try something?” Nevada repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

“Little experiment,” Caractacus murmured in agreement, circling his tongue over Nevada’s nipple. Normally he would nip, or at least graze the sensitive bud with his teeth, but now he kept his ministrations gentle. 

Nevada shifted a bit and then stilled. “I only have so much self-control,” he warned in a low, silky voice.

Caractacus smiled. “I think you have a lot of control,” he countered, trailing kisses toward Nevada’s breastbone. 

“So you’re willing to take that risk, huh?”

Caractacus kissed his way over the back of Nevada’s hand to get to his stomach. He sucked lightly, not hard enough to make a mark, not nearly as hard as Nevada normally liked. Nevada slid his hand a little higher to give Caractacus more space, but Caractacus lifted his head and pushed himself up. In a moment he was straddling Nevada’s thighs.

Nevada’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed a bit, but his posture didn’t change. Caractacus leaned forward, propping himself on his hands, and flicked his tongue against Nevada’s previously-neglected nipple. After a few moments, he felt Nevada’s hand settle onto the back of his head, his fingers curling into Caractacus’s damp hair. 

The pressure of Nevada’s hand wasn’t painful, but it was insistent and easy enough to interpret. Caractacus continued to lick around Nevada’s nipple but reached up and grabbed Nevada’s wrist, pulling his hand away and pushing it down to the bed.

Nevada didn’t fight him, but Caractacus could practically feel the other man’s surprise. He didn’t look up, but started licking and kissing his way back toward Nevada’s stomach. He sucked softly at the skin above Nevada’s belly button before circling the tip of his tongue around the indentation. 

Nevada reached up and grabbed the back of Caractacus’s neck, silently urging him to escalate. Caractacus wrapped his fingers around Nevada’s wrist and lowered his hand to the bed again, but Nevada anticipated the move. He pulled his other arm from behind his head and grabbed Caractacus’s flannel-clad hip, pulling him forward so he could feel Nevada hardening beneath the sheet.

Caractacus sat up on his knees and got hold of both of Nevada’s wrists. Nevada glared up at him but allowed Caractacus to raise his hands, his curiosity momentarily outweighing his desire for control. Caractacus pushed Nevada’s wrists against the bed near his head and leaned forward, using his weight to pin the other man to the mattress. 

Nevada tried to shift his hips up but Caractacus had him held securely between his thighs. Nevada scowled up at him and tried to move his arms down, but Caractacus only tightened his hold. He was watching Nevada’s face closely, and he saw a brief flash of panic in Nevada’s eyes. That burst of instinctive fear hurt Caractacus’s heart, but he didn’t let up. 

Nevada suddenly tried to buck, struggling beneath the other man. It wasn’t a response to _Caractacus_ holding him down, it was a response to being restrained by _anyone_ , and Caractacus knew that. He didn’t want to hurt Nevada, and he almost backed down, almost let him go.

Instead he leaned down and brushed his lips against Nevada’s. Nevada’s whole body was hard and tensed beneath him, his muscles bunched and ready to fight, but at the touch of Caractacus’s lips he froze. Caractacus kissed him again, licking lightly at his lips before slipping his tongue into Nevada’s mouth.

Nevada promptly caught it between his teeth and bit down, but not hard enough to be _really_ painful. It was a warning, and one that Caractacus had anticipated. He didn’t relent, and after a moment Nevada released his tongue and allowed Caractacus to kiss him. 

Caractacus could feel the struggle raging within Nevada. His fight or flight instinct had been triggered, but he also knew that Caractacus didn’t want to hurt him. If he redoubled his efforts to shake Caractacus off, Caractacus would let him go, and Nevada knew that even if the knowledge was buried beneath the feeling of being trapped. 

“ _Chiflado_ ,” he said against Caractacus’s mouth. 

“Let me have two minutes,” Caractacus answered gently, lifting his head enough to meet Nevada’s dark gaze. 

Nevada glared at him. “This payback?” he asked.

Caractacus tipped his head. “You know me better than that.”

“A test?”

“No test,” Caractacus said. He leaned closer, his breath fanning Nevada’s lips. “You tell me to let you go and I will.” He saw the words forming in Nevada’s mouth, saw his jaw clench as he bit them back. Caractacus couldn’t say for sure if Nevada’s silence was a desire to give Caractacus what he wanted, or nothing more than sheer stubbornness. He thought it was probably a bit of both. 

Caractacus pressed another soft kiss to Nevada’s mouth. Nevada shifted his shoulders but didn’t struggle against Caractacus’s hold on his wrists. Caractacus lingered at Nevada’s lips for long moments before kissing his way down Nevada’s jaw to suck at his neck. Nevada tipped his chin a little and Caractacus took the invitation, licking and kissing his way into the hollow of the other man’s throat. 

“I like how you taste after a shower,” Caractacus murmured against his skin.

“What, I usually taste dirty?” Nevada asked. His muscles were still tense but a small note of teasing had crept back into his voice. He was trying, and that was as much as Caractacus could want. 

Caractacus smiled into Nevada’s throat. “I never don’t like the way you taste,” he amended. “I just like when it’s only you, you know?”

“Hmm,” Nevada answered, shifting his hips a little. He’d grown harder under the sheet, tenting it up between Caractacus’s thighs. He watched Caractacus slide back a little so he could kiss down to Nevada’s chest. Caractacus’s grip on Nevada’s wrists had loosened, and he had less leverage as he straddled Nevada’s thighs instead of his hips. 

Caractacus spent thirty seconds on one nipple before turning his attention to the other. He could feel Nevada relaxing into the mattress, and Caractacus was moved by the small display of trust. He pressed another kiss to the puckered scar on Nevada’s chest before sliding down further. He kissed lazy zigzags over the expanse of Nevada’s stomach, letting go of his wrists to slip his hands down the length of Nevada’s arms. 

Nevada slowly lowered his hands down to a more comfortable position, but he didn’t reach for Caractacus. Caractacus thumbed gently at Nevada’s nipples while he sucked the soft skin below his belly button. He took his time—he knew it was one of Nevada’s most sensitive spots—but he kept his mouth gentle. Nevada shifted restlessly.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?” Caractacus answered without lifting his head. 

“Two minutes is up.”

“Two more minutes,” Caractacus murmured.

“So you just give orders now?”

“Not an order. A request,” Caractacus said. He ran his fingers down Nevada’s sides, smiling against his stomach. “Can I have two more minutes?”

“Guess I got nothin’ better to do,” Nevada answered. “Your hair’s cold.”

“Mm, sorry,” Caractacus said. His damp hair was hanging over his forehead, dragging softly along Nevada’s skin.

“S’okay,” Nevada said. “I’ll be pulling on it in a minute and a half.”

Caractacus didn’t answer as he pulled the sheet down Nevada’s thighs. 

“ _El gato te comió la lengua?_ ”

Caractacus dragged his tongue up the length of Nevada’s erection in response. In spite of his gentleness, his goal was to pleasure Nevada, not tease him, so he settled quickly into a soft but steady rhythm. He kept his teeth carefully sheathed, not giving Nevada so much as a graze. His fingers were gentle as he massaged Nevada’s testicles, his thumb was gentle as he traced circles over one nipple, his mouth was gentle as he sucked Nevada closer and closer to the edge.

It took another three and a half minutes. Nevada was quiet until he came with a moan that made Caractacus’s cock twitch in his flannel pants. Caractacus cleaned Nevada carefully and methodically, licking up every last bit of his cum. When he’d finished, Nevada grabbed Caractacus’s hair and tugged gently to make Caractacus look up at him. 

“C’mere.”

Caractacus was tired and sore. He crawled up and dropped onto his side next to Nevada. He could’ve gotten Nevada off in half the time—maybe less—with a little more aggression, but that would’ve defeated the point.

Nevada reached down and felt Caractacus through his pajamas. Caractacus was half-hard but far too tired to even consider coming again. “Want me to jerk you off?” Nevada asked in a low rumble, searching Caractacus’s face.

Caractacus smiled at the offer. “No. But I wouldn’t object to a kiss.”

Nevada sighed in exasperation but leaned over and obliged. “You okay?” he murmured.

“I’m good.” Caractacus snuggled closer to his side, laying his head on Nevada’s chest and releasing a contented breath when Nevada’s arm settled around him. “You okay?”

“Mm,” Nevada answered. “Your hair’s still cold.”

“Oh.” Caractacus started to lift his head with a grimace. “Sorry.”

Nevada put a hand on the side of Caractacus’s head, pushing him back down. “S’okay,” he said. “Rest of you’s warm.”

“Goodnight, Nevada,” Caractacus mumbled sleepily against the other man’s bare chest. He felt Nevada kiss his head as he drifted off, heard him murmur softly in Spanish, but the words were lost as Caractacus slipped into sleep.


End file.
